


Hell’s bells.

by Kaesteranya



Category: House M.D., Monster (Manga/Anime), Tajuu Jinkaku Psycho | MPD Psycho
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-06-02
Updated: 2010-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:11:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four paths intersect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Five shades of white.

  
He didn’t go to the airport to pick them up, of course, because he’s never been one to do Cuddy any favors even if the case is perhaps the most interesting case he’s picked up since yesterday. So he meets them for the first time when they arrive at the hospital and Gregory House is, of course, completely unimpressed.

  
Not to say that anything ever really impresses him, but he felt the need to make that known.

  
“Welcome to America. Shall I take you to my leader?”

  
Two blank looks, and it’s clear that they’ve missed that obviously cool pop culture reference, because obviously, they’re not that cool. House rolls his eyes and turns away, rapping his cane once before hobbling off towards his office. Foreman gives him a look, but Foreman is always giving him a look these days. Briefly, the urge to make a gay joke bubbles up, but that takes effort.

  
Nobody talks so he does the talking – all the drawling, usual witticisms that come to mind all directed at riling up his current company just to figure out what makes them tick. After three minutes of that neither of the guests are going for his jugular or screaming in his face and he’s gotta admit it, that’s kind of intriguing.

  
He only gets a good look at them when they’re on the elevator heading up to his office, and what strikes him first is that doctor’s eyes. There’s something in them, like something starved but not quite hobo, something driven but not quite Batman.

  
“Want a hotdog?” he asks the man, and takes a moment of pleasure in the startled look and confusion that follows before the guy finally manages to answer him.

  
“Er. No.”

  
And they don’t talk again, but now House has found something possibly more interesting than the case: someone’s hiding something.

  
Secrets have always been nice things to dig up from under the dirt.

  


* * *

  
He remembers the details of the operation more and more now, the exact, precise everything of the day he unwittingly damned himself and perhaps the rest of the world by saving the life of a demon: the frantic voices, the sound of thunder in the distance, and the absolute lack of color in the operation room beyond the glaring yellow of the floodlights, the green of the surgeon frocks, and blood.

  
Fragments of that night hang to the edge of every thought he has, every dream he dares to dream – disjointed details at first, but they had developed with utmost clarity all those years ago, as every step he took on the run was a step closer towards ending everything.

  
Tenma has the whole picture now – it imprints itself at every corner as he walks the halls of this hospital, at the shoulder of a man with clear blue eyes and a nasty disposition, beside another man that carries himself with a lazy sort of lethality that it makes his hand twitch for a gun that’s no longer holstered at his side. He ducks his head, draws his coat a little closer.

  
It’s rather cold today, in America.

  


* * *

  
Amamiya Kazuhiko is surrounded by noise. There was the noise of the plane ride with its jet engine and screaming children, then the noise of the streets in this place that’s not so strange only it certainly isn’t home, then the noise of the hotel, white and obtrusive simply because it was attempting to be _un_ obtrusive. Now there’s the buzz of the hospital and the little meeting room he finds himself in, standing in a corner, listening to doctors talk over his head.

  
This sort of thing, it has very little to do with him, but money is money and famous cases theoretically bring in MORE money. That’s assuming, of course, that they even get anything out of this at all.

  
He’s not going to be very happy, if they don’t. Sure, he’ll probably never have much to contribute beyond being another warm body in the area, probably never have to consider using the guns or any of the bullets he was allowed to take along (“in case of an emergency”, as they always say), but there are a lot of easier nothings to accomplish back at home and he’s never been a fan of long trips.

  
For now, though, maybe he’s content with watching things, and, in particular, watching this Tenma he met only a week back in the office, back in Japan. The whisper in his head, it gets louder, maybe even smiles a little whenever Tenma’s around. Something about the man, something he can’t place. Or maybe it’s not about him, per se, but what he might know. What he might have seen.

  
Noise again. The meeting’s going nowhere. Amamiya pushes himself off the wall, says he’s going to smoke and they can call him in when they’re done.

  


* * *

  
“It’s not going to hurt so much, after this is finished.”

  
He doesn’t get much beyond a gurgle and a frantic look, but Johann smiles nonetheless, reaches over to the bedside table and pours another glass. He smiles at the woman too – a kind nurse, someone who was nice enough to help him punish… no, no, save this man properly. She’s got the man’s mouth pried open, and briefly, he’s grateful. Couldn’t do this without her, really.

  
He picks up the glass, tips all of the water down into the man’s mouth. Another gurgle. He pours another one.

  
“I heard that drowning is actually quite nice if you’re doing it deliberately. I’m afraid I can’t speak from personal experience, though.”

  
Glass Number Three. Glass Number Four.

  
“But maybe this sort of drowning is the only nice kind? Since it’s internal. No fear of sinking away to where someone can’t find you. Nothing bearing down on your body, beyond your lungs.”

  
It’s a nice day out, he notes sometime later, as he’s pouring the seventh glass. So much potential, so much possibility, so much to do. America seems like such a wonderful place.

  
Johann turns, ready to pour once again, but the woman’s shaking her head and the man’s finally stopped breathing.

  
As his accomplice steps out to admit to her crime, Johann decides that it’s time to go for a walk.  



	2. Strange things they declared time would reveal in direful summer months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got a new case, ducklings.

“You have a new case, ducklings.”

  
Dr. Gregory House hobbled into his office, followed by two Japanese men; his rather violent dumping of a set of files stopped his team from being distracted by the new faces, and as one they turned to look at him looking back at them with his usual ‘stop being stupid and give me your attention’ face.

  
“Introductions are overrated, so I’ll leave you all to take care of that when you’re not busy being my bitches.” House tapped his cane on the floor. “Cuddy has asked us to do the impossible: she wants us to diagnose a patient that actually doesn’t exist.”

  
One of the Japanese men coughed politely. “With all due respect, Dr. House, he does exist.”

  
“He is not here right now,” House declared without turning around, “and therefore he does not exist to me. Now where was I… ah. Check the files, ducklings. What you are reading now is the profile of a psycho killer! Cool, huh?”

  
“What are we supposed to do with this?” Thirteen asked, lifting her gaze from the reports. House shrugged.

  
“Try to be professionals. This is a joint operation between this university and some folks down at Japan.” House gestured towards the two men who had entered with him. “They’ll be helping you out. Now I’m going to go and watch some L Word… page me when you’ve figured something out.”

  
“…Is Dr. House always like this?” the Japanese man who had spoken up asked in accented English, directing his question towards Foreman. Foreman could only roll his eyes and nod.

  
“Team, this is Dr. Kenzou Tenma, a brain surgeon based in Germany — he’ll be joining us for the duration of the case. Also, meet Detective Kazuhiko Amamiya, from the Tokyo Police Department — he’s the guy who has been assigned to track our, uh, patient down. He has also been assigned to watch over us, in case something happens.”

  
“Wait, so he really IS a psycho killer?” Dr. Kutner asked with wide eyes.

  
“Do you think the body count listed there is a joke?”

  
“What exactly are we supposed to do?” Dr. Taub cut in, before Dr. Kutner could ask more strange questions.

  
“Our patient’s lawyer is hoping to pin his client’s condition on some sort of biological condition… now as to why they’re concerning themselves with this while he’s still at large, I can’t say. Anyway, our job is to see if that’s even possible.”

  
“And if it isn’t?”

  
“Then we better hope that _he_ isn’t on to us,” Dr. Tenma grimly replied. A few laughs and strange looks went around the table before the other doctors in the room realized that the Japanese surgeon was dead serious.

  
***

  
Detective Amamiya excused himself and stepped out sometime after lunch, while Dr. House’s team and Dr. Tenma were still hard at work — he had figured that he would only be out for a while to buy some cigarettes, but was proven wrong when he realized just how hard it was to get a pack or to find a decent place to smoke.

  
 _America’s such a weird place._

  
Amamiya walked along with his hands on his pockets and a cigarette perched on his lips, wandering through the park grounds just beside Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital; a few people sent him dirty looks, but he couldn’t have cared less at that point. He wondered, idly, what Machi and Miwa were up to.

  
 _Who would’ve thought that the bastard would take me out this far…?_

  
It had started simply enough — Tooru Sasayama had turned up for dinner as he usually did, babbling about pending cases as he usually did. He had gushed about something that authorities were calling the Johann Case, where a world-famous serial killer who had apparently been at large in Europe was rumored to have arrived in Japan, as a few incriminating murders bearing his signature had turned up in the papers. Machi, of course, offered to help out, and one thing had led to another. Amamiya would have been fine with it, except for the fact that no one actually knew what Johann looked like, and except for the fact that he was connected to Kenzou Tenma (the man had saved Johann’s life when he was still a boy), there was absolutely no way to trace him.

  
The playing field had shifted after the cases in Japan started disappearing, and popped up instead in the United States of America, centered around the state of New Jersey. Amamiya traced Dr. Tenma and followed him to Princeton-Plainsboro, where the two of them struck a deal that would help the both of them out. Most of the information they had given to Gregory House’s team was a front to disguise Tenma’s own motives, but Amamiya didn’t care for so long as he got paid.

  
Amamiya sat down at one of the park benches overlooking the lake; he draw one leg up and lit his cigarette, inhaling the nicotine and exhaling into the crisp, American air. The sound of laughter from behind him caught his attention.

  
“You’re not allowed to smoke in this area.”

  
There was a young man standing there, smiling in a pure and brilliant fashion that Amamiya instantly disliked. He was young and handsome, with blond hair and clear, pale eyes. He was also dressed in the signature frock of a hospital patient, although Amamiya could not see a nurse in sight.

  
“Really, you should put that out. You might get in trouble.”

  
“I need the nicotine to do my job.”

  
The young man chuckled. “Do _you_ need the nicotine,” he went on to say, “or does the _other_ you need the nicotine? That’s the more interesting question, I think.”

  
Amamiya frowned. He turned away from the young man and took another drag of his cigarette, choosing to ignore the crazy white in favor of the scenery. A moment later, he heard the young man laugh again.

  
“It seems as though I’ve offended you… I should leave now, before I cause anymore trouble. Do say hi to Dr. Tenma for me, will you?”

  
“You a friend of his or something?”

  
“Sort of. A long time ago, he saved my life.”

  
Amamiya spun around, but by that time the young man had disappeared.  



End file.
